


I Could Hold You In My Arms

by humanities_angstiest



Series: Hold Onto Me [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Hurt Keith (Voltron), M/M, Multi, Nightmares, Pining Hunk (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), all these tags are the same how do i choose one, lance and hunk taking care of keith is what i live for, me dragging my nightmare/comfort kink into every fandom, this is so self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-17 17:57:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9336002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanities_angstiest/pseuds/humanities_angstiest
Summary: Keith used to suffer from nightmares. That was, he did until his fellow paladins found out and refused to let him deal with them alone.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be klance (especially with the song title) but then Hunk ended up in there and I don’t regret it. OT3.

The crash of something heavy falling on the floor stirs Lance’s sleepy conscious, but it’s the desperate shout of rage that wakes him fully. Lance bolts up in bed pushing his sleep mask onto his forehead, and frantically searches his dark room. Nothing is out of place. Did he dream the noise? It isn’t the castle alarm. No blue and red lights are flashing; the ship is silent. Lance hears a sharp thunk followed by unintelligible growled curses coming from the room beside his.

Keith’s room.

Lance reaches for his bayard on his nightstand and dashes to his door, peering carefully into the dimly lit hallway for any threat before stepping outside of his room and advancing slowly toward Keith’s. His breath catches at the sound of lumbering footsteps approaching from the other end of the hall. Pressing himself against the wall, Lance raises his bayard to his shoulder and grips it with both hands, waiting for the other being to become visible under the pale hallway light.

“Lance? Is that you?” a wobbly voice whispers.

Lance exhales deeply and drops his weapon to his side, stepping away from the wall and closer to his best friend.

“Geez, Hunk. You scared me. I thought you were an enemy that got into the castle.”

“Same to you. Did you hear the noise coming from Keith’s room?” Both boys look at the door between them.

“Should we get Shiro and Pidge? What if there is a burglar attacking Keith?” Hunk grips the bottom of his nightshirt with one hand and flexes his grip around his bayard with the other.

Lance doubts an ordinary burglar managed to jump aboard their castle-ship, but it’s a preferable thought to the alternative. He considers Hunk’s question to fetch the others and grimaces at the conclusion. “There’s no time.” He doesn’t feel confident confronting an enemy in the middle of the night without backup from his entire team, but Keith is alone.

“On three, ‘kay?”

Hunk nods, taking position on the other side of Keith’s door and clutching his bayard to his chest with both hands. Lance silently counts down until no fingers remain, then the two paladins simultaneously storm the room like they used to back at the Garrison when they pretended to go on covert missions (i.e. break into Pidge’s room to read her diary for Hunk and play with her gadgets for Lance). Naturally their posture is more tense with the threat of a seven foot purple alien with glowing yellow eyes on the other side of the door, but the side by side stance they take aiming their (now real) weapons is the same.

Keith’s room is dark, yet the glowing stars outside his large window provide enough light for the blue and yellow paladin to realize no one is in the room. It is just them and Keith, asleep in his bed.

Lance shares a look with Hunk, who shrugs his shoulders. They step forward and let the metal door whoosh shut behind them only to immediately freeze as Keith lashes out in his sleep, his heel smacking against the footboard of his bed. Lance recognizes the thunking noise. It sounds like it would hurt but Keith doesn’t wake up, growling with animosity rather than pain.

“Keith?” Hunk approaches the sleeping paladin, careful of the lashing limbs. “Hey man, you’re dreaming.” Hunk gently rests a hand on the red paladin’s shoulder. The intermittent growling becomes full blown screaming and now all limbs are in action, fighting off an attacker that only exists behind Keith’s closed eyelids.

“Keith, wake up!” Lance steps forward to help Hunk pin Keith’s flailing limbs down before he injures himself. Hunk lays his weight on Keith’s lower half to keep his hips from bucking and his legs from kicking, and wraps his hands securely around Keith’s arms. Lance sits at the top of the bed and takes Keith’s head between his hands, trying to stop the violent back and forth shaking motion before the paladin injures his neck. Once Keith’s body is prevented from moving, the previously angry shouts turn to desperate pleas.

“No, stop! Please, please don’t…” Liquid slides down the sides of Keith’s face onto Lance’s hands. Lance’s chest tightens, wondering how many times Keith has suffered alone, too independent and embarrassed to ask for comfort when he awakes from whatever thoughts are plaguing him in sleep.

“Shh, you’re okay, Keith. Everything is okay,” Lance murmurs, brushing his hands through Keith’s thick hair, finally able to verify it is as soft as it looks.

“Don’t hurt him.” Keith’s voice cracks and Hunk and Lance wince at the raw pain, wondering what Keith is dreaming about, who he is dreaming about. Keith continues to twist in their grasp to no avail and Hunk looks to Lance for direction, not knowing what to do to help their fellow paladin since his usual method of physical comfort backfired. Lance has some experience with nightmares but it mostly includes comforting his younger siblings after they wake up from one, not leading them out of one.

Keith screams again and Lance can feel the phantom pain of the sound ripping through his throat. Violet eyes burst open as their owner’s body jolts forward, only to be held down by two sets of hands. Hunk and Lance observe carefully as Keith identifies his surroundings and his heavy breathing gradually slows to the point where he no longer sounds like he is on the brink of a panic attack.

This is the part Lance can handle, comforting after the fact. “Hey, buddy, you’re okay. Hunk and I are here.” Lance isn’t expecting Keith to cling to him like his little siblings would, but he isn’t expecting Keith to glare at them, shaking off their hands. Though he probably should have.

“Get out,” Keith growls, twisting onto his side to present them with his back. Hunk’s hands fidget at his sides with the need to help but he regretfully keeps them in place, not knowing how — not knowing Keith well enough to know how — to help, despite his wishes for the contrary. His desire to comfort is a physical aching need, the ache more painful the more he cares, and right now the ache is carving out his insides. With a dejected frown Hunk slowly rises from the bed, giving Keith the space he asked for, but when he turns to Lance, his friend remains stubbornly in place at the head of the bed.

“I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re okay.” It must be the sternness of Lance’s voice, because Keith doesn’t argue back. He doesn’t face them, however. Lance sighs, as if Keith is a bratty child that refuses to cooperate.

“When my brother Mateo had a nightmare, he felt better after he told me about it. Talking it out made him realize there was nothing to be afraid of. You don’t need to talk to us about it, maybe Shiro since you trust him most, but Hunk and I are here for you too.” _Let us be here for you_ goes unspoken.

Assuming it’s alright to stay if Lance is, Hunk returns to his spot on the bed, crossing one leg in front of him while the other rests on the floor. With his height, he can see over Keith’s curled form and spot the tears sliding down his cheeks. Whatever Keith dreamed about, it really shook him up. Giving in to his need to comfort his friend, Hunk places his large hand on Keith’s back and rubs circles into lean muscle. Keith’s body twitches, curling further away from Hunk’s touch. Hunk begins to retract his hand but after audible deep, calming breaths Keith settles back against Hunk’s warm hand, and the circular motions resume.

“Go away,” Keith whispers even as he presses into Hunk’s touch. Lance ignores him, tangling his hands in Keith’s hair and lightly scratching his scalp. Keith sniffles, burying his face into his pillow and muttering “Go away. Please, go.” Detecting the exhaustion and loneliness in Keith’s voice, Lance does the opposite, knowing Keith has the energy to push them away with words but nothing more. He climbs over Keith to position the red paladin between himself and Hunk. Lance lays on his side facing Keith, whose breath stutters as he inhales shakily, trying to hide his crying face from the blue paladin.

“You can cry. We won’t judge you. Crying doesn’t make you weak.” Lance shuffles close enough that Keith is pressed against him, able to hide his face in Lance’s pajama shirt. A shaky hand grips Lance’s shirt as a head tucks itself under Lance’s chin.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Keith shakes his head left to right. The reminder of his nightmare elicits a choking sob. “Shhh, it’s okay. You don’t need to. Do you like it when I play with your hair?” The head hesitates before moving up and down once. Lance wraps an arm over Keith’s form to run his hands through the thick mullet resting at his neck and up to the crown of his head. His other hand rests on top of the hand clutching his shirt.

Hunk never doubted that Lance is a great older brother, but he is supremely impressed by how well his best friend is handling their volatile teammate. He on the other hand isn’t sure what to do. He fears making a mistake, especially with Keith. Hunk stares at Lance awaiting guidance, which thankfully he picks up on.

“Is it okay if Hunk lies down on your other side and keeps rubbing your back? Or will that make you feel trapped?” Hunk never considered that Keith may feel trapped. Lance is his best friend and at first Hunk worried their competition for the red paladin’s affections might interfere with that, but now he is grateful to not be alone in his effort to comfort Keith.

Hunk leans over the silent boy to see his response, but the red paladin’s eyes are closed, exhaustion setting in. A deeper exhale somehow translates to Lance as an okay, so he nods for the bigger paladin to take his place behind Keith. Hunk doesn’t press as close as Lance, needing space to run his hand soothingly up and down Keith’s back. He can feel the slow, steady breaths as Keith’s ribcage expands and deflates with each breath. He blinks a few times to ensure he isn’t the one dreaming, then reverently runs his hand down Keith’s spine. It worried him to see characteristically composed Keith frightened to the point of tears. The ache in his core has mostly abated now that Keith is at rest, but a small portion remains formed from Hunk’s desire to know what scared Keith in the first place so he can be of more help, provide more comfort. Regardless, he will do everything in his power to protect Keith as he knows Lance will.

When Hunk’s hand tires he edges closer, looping his arm across Keith and Lance’s bodies to hold them in a loose embrace and let their slow breaths carry him to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

The space surrounding Keith is warm. Safe. As this thought crosses his blossoming awareness, the warmth in front of him moves away. Feeling a cold draft fill its place, Keith grabs blindly, twisting his grip around fabric and pulling the blanket closer, only the blanket is a lot heavier than he expects. He ignores this fact, glad to rebury himself against the warmth.

“Sorry, I was going to grab you a glass of water. I figured your throat might be a little sore.”

It says something about how comfortable Keith is that he doesn’t immediately become alert upon hearing a voice whisper beside his ear. His dazed state doesn’t last long.

Keith shoots up in bed. “Lance?! What the fuck? Why are you in my bed?”

The blue paladin has the audacity to stare at him as if he is the one acting strange. “Do you not remember?”

“Re—?” Memories from last night trickle back at first then hit him like a tidal wave. First, scenes of _him_. Keith cringes at the distorted memory and then cringes for a different reason as he recalls himself crying in front of the two paladins in his bed. How could he let himself show such weakness?

Full of self-hatred, the red paladin directs it outward. “Get out! Get out of my room!” The shouting awakes the big guy resting behind him.

“Keith? What’s wrong?”

“You! The both of you! GET OUT OF MY ROOM!”

“Hey, stop yelling and talk to us.” Lance sits solidly on Keith’s bed much as he did last night, arms and legs crossed as he stares Keith down, patiently waiting for the temper tantrum to end. Keith knows he is acting like a child but he can’t help it. His facade is shattered. Now his team, his family, knows how weak he is, taken down by a nightmare version of an old memory. He can’t protect them, he couldn’t protect anyone. Keith shoves Lance with both hands, knocking the blue-eyed male into the wall behind him.

“Keith—”

Feeling terrible for what he did, Lance’s angry yet still concerned eyes in front of him and Hunk’s worried voice behind him are too much. Keith leaps over Hunk’s body, escaping Lance’s outstretched hand. He runs through the corridors, not surprised when his body brings him to the training deck. He isn’t about to risk running into Lance and Hunk if he returns to his room for a change of clothes and his bayard, so he will have to make do with the t-shirt and fitted sweatpants he wore to bed. He can do hand to hand combat against a bot and fight barefoot, no problem. He’s fought this way before.

Time passes with punches and kicks replacing minutes and bleeding knuckles counting the hours. Shiro comes to get him for lunch at some point, but Keith’s focus on the three bots circling him doesn’t waver and eventually Shiro leaves. Pidge isn’t as lenient.

“You’ve missed two meals. Enough training, join us for dinner.”

Keith’s gaze never wavers from the opponent before him. He hates to spare the concentration necessary to process Pidge’s words and respond, but the sooner he gets rid of her the sooner he can return his entire focus to training. “Can’t. Haven’t beaten level six yet.”

“Beat it tomorrow. You need to take a break or else you’ll injure yourself.”

Keith huffs and considers Pidge’s argument. His feet are blistered and pain sears up his shins with every movement. His arms are heavy weights being pulled down by gravity but held in the air by sheer will, and he wishes his blood-crusted knuckles felt numb but sadly they haven’t stopped throbbing since five upper-cuts ago. He has already injured himself so Keith reasons he might as well keep training. Life won’t stop and wait for him to get stronger.

“I’ll take a break later. Just leave me a plate of food in the fridge.” No reply comes so Keith returns his full focus to the enemy bot before him. He jabs at its midsection but the bot glides backwards out of reach. Keith readies his stance in anticipation of the bot’s charge. This dance has become familiar. It won’t be long before he beats the level.

The bot speeds forward only to fall straight into a hole that materializes beneath it. Keith waits, wondering if it is a trick and the bot will reappear in front of him, but the truth becomes clear after he hears, “Come on. Everyone is waiting on you to start dinner.”

Pidge stands in the doorway, a screwdriver in her hand. Keith wipes the sweat off his face with the sleeve of his black shirt then trudges towards Pidge. He should have known he had lost as soon as Shiro sent in the big guns. No amount of tinkering on his part will fix the training system and Keith won’t survive the judgmental glare of Shiro if he tries to wrestle Pidge into fixing it.

True to her word, everyone is sitting around the dinner table with empty plates, waiting for Pidge to return with Keith.

“Wow, you actually managed to get him out of the training room. Good job, Pidge.” Pidge accepts Lance’s high-five before re-taking her seat beside Hunk.

Everyone digs in, scooping food onto their plates, and Keith waits for the chaos to die down before reaching for the serving spoon himself, only for Shiro to grab his wrist.

“Keith, what happened?” Shiro’s voice is authoritative, but the concern is evident in his eyes. The other paladins gasp, and Keith realizes he didn’t wash the blood off his knuckles before sitting down to eat, not having a chance with Pidge escorting him. There are cuts above the knuckles on his fingers and pale streaks of red smeared on the backs of his hands, making the damage look much worse than it is. Really it’s nothing, only peeled off sections of skin above each knuckle, the skin raw and crusted with old blood.

“Nothing, I was training. I’ll go wash it off.”

“What do you mean ‘nothing’? Why didn’t you wrap your hands? Or stop when they started to hurt?”

“Shut up,” Keith says apathetically, wondering why Lance always has to make a big deal out of things.

“No, Lance is right. You should have wrapped your hands. Unless…”

“What? Unless what?” Shiro ignores Lance and examines Keith, who lowers his eyes away from Shiro’s penetrating gaze.

“Keith, does this have something to do with Elliot?”

“Shiro, stop.” Keith clenches his fists and rips his wrist out of Shiro’s hold.

“I thought you moved past this. You can’t prot—”

“STOP!” Keith’s hands shake at his sides, which doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone. Keith’s gaze flits from face to face, seeing the same confusion and concern on each one. “Fuck,” he mutters as he slams his fist on the table. He is training hard to protect them, but they are looking at him as if he is the one that needs protection. He doesn’t. He can take care of himself. And he will keep working hard so he is able to protect them too.

Keith takes in a shaky breath and then another, this one much smoother. “I’m fine, guys. I was caught up in my training and didn’t realize I hurt myself. I’ll be more mindful in the future to wrap my hands if I’m doing hand-to-hand combat.” Everyone still has questions but they gradually relax their posture, Keith following suit.

“Come on, I’ll wrap your wounds.” Pidge nods her head towards the kitchen and doesn’t wait for a response before leaving, forcing Keith to follow or else feel guilty for Pidge standing alone, waiting for him. He avoids eye contact with everyone, especially Shiro, as he leaves.

Keith walks up to where Pidge stands beside the sink, testing the water temperature. She nods when she is happy with it and he places his hands under the warm water and harshly scrubs the dried blood off his skin. Pidge pushes his hands away, replacing them with her own that scratch the blood off in a far gentler manner.

When the blood is gone, Pidge turns the water off and lightly dabs his hands with a cloth. Keith hops onto the counter while she rummages through cabinets and drawers until she finds the special alien salve and bandages. She liberally smears the yellow gunk on his cuts then wraps bandages around his knuckles, bending his fingers once in a while to ensure she isn’t wrapping too tight.

Pidge turns her back to him as she puts the materials away. “Are you good?” Even after returning the bandages and salves to their drawer, she doesn’t turn around until he answers.

“Yeah, thanks Pidge.” Keith struggles to smile. He is grateful for her concern and for not pressuring him, but he also abhors it.

“Fine. Let’s join the others, I’m starving.”

They return to the table where their fellow paladins sit tense and silent and Keith lowers his gaze, focusing on his food and leaving the conversation to his teammates.

“Hey Keith, we’re going to play cards after dinner in the lounge. Want to join us?” Keith lifts his gaze to Pidge, whose crossed arms imply there is only one correct answer though her countenance is neutral.

“Um…yeah, sure.” Keith pretends not to notice the look Hunk and Lance share. He wonders if they said anything to the others earlier, and a coldness freezes him. He shakes it off, not needing to work himself up over possibly nothing, especially since he can’t release the tension until Pidge rewires the training deck.

He sighs to himself before following Hunk, Pidge, and Lance to the lounge as Shiro joins Allura and Coran for a strategy meeting. At least if he’s playing a game of cards with his teammates, Shiro can’t corner him and play therapist.

“What do you mean you don’t have a five?! You definitely do.”

“What makes you think that?”

“…Nothing much, just…”

“Lance, I know you looked at my cards.”

“What slander! Hunk, buddy, do you hear this?”

“It’s only slander if it’s untrue.” Lance splutters and dramatically waves his hands in the air at his best friend’s betrayal while Hunk and Pidge fist-bump.

“Let’s start over, this time with no cheating.” Pidge gives Lance a pointed look as she swipes the cards out of everyone’s hands to add to the pile on the table, coalescing the cards and then shuffling them.

“I’m going to call it a night.” It is probably safe now to return to his room without running into Shiro.

“You sure?” Hunk frowns, and it only makes Keith more sure. He doesn’t want to sit here and be silently worried over. Their efforts to include him and cheer him up are appreciated but unnecessary.

“Yeah, training tired me out.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t spend all day in the training room then.” Keith glares at Lance who glares right back. Not wanting to get into an argument since his training truly did leave him tired, Keith stands up and leaves the lounge, calling out a ‘goodnight’ over his shoulder. After a quick shower and brushing his teeth, Keith slips under his blankets and tries to find rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your kind comments and general interest in this story! I was amazed by how many hits this received in the first day alone. I have one more chapter planned for this fic, but I’ve really liked writing Klunk so I’m thinking about making this a series, we’ll see. I’m open to prompts if anyone has one. You can message me here by leaving a comment or on my tumblr: humanities-angstiest
> 
> Have a lovely day!


	3. Chapter 3

_Elliot wasn’t back yet. How long did it take to get a box of Lucky Charms from the supermarket?_

_Keith pushed aside the tarp functioning as a door to their makeshift house. There were a few tears in it, letting in the cold and occasionally the rain, but it held up fairly well considering they dug it out of a trash heap on the edge of town. The tarp was originally black but the dirt clinging to it and the beating it endured from the weather turned it grey. None of them cared about the color; all that mattered was that the tarp was large enough to hang over the stacked boxes and crates that formed the skeleton of their ramshackle home._

_“I’m going to find Elliot,” Keith informed the teen sitting on an overturned milk crate. Jack lowered the knife and wooden object he was whittling._

_“Do you want me to come with you?”_

_“No, I’ll be fine.”_

_***_

_Keith’s hits and kicks fell upon the older boy like a light drizzle - a minor inconvenience but nothing to worry over. Keith punched as hard as he could but the teenager only laughed, ignoring him as he continued to choke Elliot and his friend cheered from the sidelines._

_“Let him go!” Keith’s voice became hoarser with every shout: don’t touch him, get away from him, fight me instead. The two teenagers ignored him. He was a puny eleven year old, he couldn’t hurt them. Keith fought with all he had but he was unable to do anything to stop the teenagers from choking the child who stole from their parent’s shop, the homeless and hungry child unable to buy food to keep himself and his friends from starving. Angry tears and desperate tears mixed and fell from Keith’s eyes as he did everything in his power to free the nine year old from the bulky teen’s grip, but he wasn’t strong enough. Elliot’s eyes rolled back in his head._

_“Please, please stop,” Keith’s voice cracked but it’s doubtful they heard. All the screaming had reduced his voice to a whisper._

_A well-dressed Asian woman turned the corner of the supermarket to look into the alley. “What’s happening back here?” Standing beside her was a tall boy, a few years older than Keith._

_“Shit, run!” One of the teenagers took off running and the other dropped his hands from around Elliot’s neck quick to follow, pushing Keith off him in the process. Keith fell backwards onto his rear, stopping himself from hitting his head on the pavement by landing on his elbows. The woman ran towards them, cell phone out and already dialing 911. The dark-haired boy at her side approached Keith and knelt beside him._

_“Are you okay?”_

_Keith ignored the boy, crawling on his hands and knees towards Elliot who lay motionless on the ground. Keith shook Elliot’s shoulder, trying to wake his friend up._

_“Elliot, wake up. They’re gone now. Please, Elliot. Please. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Elliot. I couldn’t do anything, I’m so sorry.”_

_The dark-haired boy sat beside him, leaving enough space to not crowd him. “My mom called an ambulance. They’ll be here soon.” The words entered Keith’s head but took a while to process, not connecting until minutes later when he saw the medics arrive and place Elliot on a stretcher._

_The woman spoke to them, explaining what she witnessed. Keith shakily rose to his feet and started jogging towards the ambulance as the doors shut but was stopped by the woman’s hand on his shoulder._

_“Sweetheart, do you have anyone we can call? A parent or guardian?” Keith tried to focus on her words but couldn’t, too anxious about the ambulance driving away._

_The woman appraised his vacant eyes and tired body. “We’ll drive you to the hospital, okay? You can tell us who to call then. Takashi, will you help this boy to the car? He looks ready to collapse.”_

_The boy, Takashi, wrapped an arm around Keith’s waist and used it to lift him slightly, supporting his weight as they made their way to the supermarket parking lot where their car was parked._

_Keith’s eyes remained wide open the entire drive to the hospital, his body shaking as he waited to see Elliot’s condition. The fight in the alley kept running through his mind, a repetition of everything he was unable to do. Too weak, too powerless, too useless._

 

Keith wakes with a scream dying on his lips. His breathing is erratic and he closes his eyes to concentrate on taking measured breaths, only for his nightmare to reshape itself behind his lids. His eyes snap open once again. Every attempt to fall back asleep is thwarted by those damn memories, as it is every time he has these recurring nightmares. With sleep evading him, his best option is to visit the training deck. If he can’t sleep at least he can train to be stronger.

He is anxious as he sneaks through the halls, wondering if Pidge has returned the training system to its original condition, but relief washes over him when his command to initiate training level 6 is processed. His muscles still ache from his training earlier but the pain is much more preferable to the kind waiting for him once he shuts his eyes so he endures it.

Are the training bots getting faster or is he getting slower? He barely raises his sword in time to block a simple direct hit. The edges of his vision are slightly blurry and a swing coming from his peripheral is noticed too late. Keith tries to jump over the bot’s swinging staff but his legs refuse to jump. He manages a light hop, catches his foot on the staff, and face-plants into the ground.

Someone calls for the training sequence to end. “Keith? Come on man, you need to go to bed. Don’t make me tell Pidge she needs to install an eye-scanner on this room to keep you out. I’ll do it.”

Keith rolls onto his back and squints up through the too bright fluorescent lighting to see a figure that can only be Hunk. The figure stretches a hand out. Keith hesitates but then accepts the help. He isn’t sure if he can stand on his own without his vision blacking out or his body collapsing. Despite Hunk’s help, both almost happen. Hunk places his hands on Keith’s shoulders to steady the swaying paladin who chooses to give up on supporting himself and lets his weight fall against Hunk.

“Oh, Keith. You need to take better care of yourself.” Hunk scoops Keith into his arms, the red paladin too tired to protest, and carries him to his room, berating him for not eating enough and working too hard and not sleeping if the bags under his eyes are telling the truth. He says all of this gently, aware that Keith is too exhausted to process much of his words.

“You need food and a shower. Sit right here,” Hunk sets him lightly on his bed, “and I’ll be back in a minute. I’m going to grab Lance to watch over you while I make some food.”

Keith is unable to respond as Hunk departs, but in the yellow paladin’s absence his heart rate relaxes from his strenuous late night workout and without the blood pumping between his ears, he feels less dizzy and more awake. Just in time to remember that Hunk left to fetch Lance. Fuck, why does this keep happening to him? Can the universe not give him a semblance of composure in front of his team?

His door swishes open and Lance storms in, Hunk following with apologetic eyes as if to say, ‘You brought this on yourself but I’m still sorry you have to endure his wrath’.

“You mullet-headed idiot! What the quiznak were you doing training at,” Lance places his hands on his hips and bends over to read Keith’s alarm clock, “2 AM! That’s not healthy, Keith!”

“Shut up,” Keith grumbles, closing his eyes and lying back on his bed, hoping the appearance of him in a sleeping position will sate them and they’ll leave him alone.

Hunk steps further into the room. “We’re worried about you, man. First the nightmare, and now this…”

“Shut _up_ ,” Keith spits, digging his palms into his eyes to remove the images he fought so hard to remove, now resting comfortably behind his eyelids once again at Hunk’s reminder.

“Hey, you can be a grumpy munchkin to me all you want, but don’t be mean to Hunk. He’s concerned. And so am I.” Lance pauses, roving his eyes over Keith’s appearance. “Look, this is what’s going to happen. You’re going to take a shower and get tucked into bed and we are going to talk about what died in your ass. Meanwhile, Hunk, kind teddy bear that he is, is going to make us all some snacks. Got it, chico lindo?”

Keith scowls at whatever insulting thing Lance called him in Spanish but other than an eye-roll he doesn’t argue, instead mumbling, “Sorry, Hunk. You really don’t need to worry about me though. I’ll go to bed, so don’t let me keep you up anymore.”

“Sorry Hunk?! I mean, that’s great and all that apologies are even possible for you, but what about me? I’m being kept awake too!”

“Then go away. No one asked you to be here.”

Lance frowns. He regards Keith’s angry scowl and his eyes soften as it reminds him of his little sister Marisol. She rarely asked for or accepted help, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want it. She’d argue tooth and nail and make you think she hated your guts, but Lance knew she was grateful that he put up with her attitude and helped her anyway, letting her maintain her pointless pride.

“Well too bad you’re not the boss of me. Now get in the shower.” Keith crosses his arms and turns his head to the side.

“Do you need help standing?” Hunk kindly offers. Keith responds much more positively to the yellow paladin, shaking his head and sitting up. When he moves to stand, his over-exhausted legs crumble beneath him and both Lance and Hunk reach out to catch him, causing him to land in both their arms in a three person hug.

“Woah there, buddy. Geez, you did a number on yourself.” Lance wonders how Keith’ll be able to shower, and the solution that forms in his head changes the color of his cheeks. “Um, don’t hit me for this suggestion,” Lance pauses to reconsider his words but decides yolo, “but since you can’t stand on your own I think Hunk and I should help you shower.”

Hunk gapes at Lance but the lanky teen is too busy waiting with bated breath for a punch or angry shout to silently converse with his friend that yes, he did just suggest showering with the mesmerizing dark-haired teen they both have crushes on. To Lance and Hunk’s complete shock, no hit or shout comes. The red paladin is surprisingly quiet in their arms. Lance releases the smallest breath of relief when he spots the red tips of Keith’s ears. His head is tipped down, his dark hair hiding his face, but Lance is willing to bet his left pinky toe that Keith’s cheeks are a charming red to match.

“Hunk, can you carry Keith to the bathroom?”

Hunk waits for Keith to say or do anything if he feels uncomfortable, but he doesn’t so Hunk turns around, crouches, and lifts Keith onto his back. Sadly, now that Keith is more lucid he is unlikely to accept being carried princess style. Once in the bathroom, Hunk sets him down, Lance applying a steadying hand to ensure that Keith won’t topple over. He really overworked his muscles if they refuse to support him, but it could also be the minimal food fueling him, Hunk reasons.

Instead of immediately undressing Keith, Lance pulls his own shirt over his head then starts unbuttoning his jeans. Keith casts his eyes to the floor. Hunk passes Keith to his boxer-clad friend while he strips himself down to his underwear as well. When they are both vulnerable, Hunk steadies Keith with hands on his shoulders while Lance carefully undresses him.

“Your skin is really pale,” Lance comments, admiring the way Keith’s skin contrasts against Hunk’s and his darker skin tones. Keith moves his arms self-consciously across his body, assuming Lance is criticizing him. Lance follows his comment with, “It’s beautiful. Reminds me of moonlight.” The muscles under Hank’s hands relax.

Lance turns the knob of the shower and keeps a hand under the water, waiting until the temperature is just right, hot but not scalding. Lance enters the shower first, reaching back to grab Keith’s hands and lead him in with Hunk as the caboose. It is a miracle the castle anticipated all types of alien shapes and accommodated with overly large showers. There isn’t enough room to do cartwheels, but the three of them fit comfortably in the rectangular glass space. Hunk maintains his position holding Keith up, back to chest, and Lance handles the cleaning. He squirts the pink body wash into his palm and rubs it along Keith’s arm until it turns white and foamy.

“You still with us, buddy?” Lance asks of the frighteningly silent paladin. Keith hasn’t said a word, letting himself be undressed and lead into a shower with two fellow naked paladins then scrubbed clean by one of them. A very unlike-Keith thing to do. It is a weird situation for any of them to be in, weirder for any of them to passively accept, and weirder still for Keith to be the one passively accepting it.

“I don’t,” Keith tilts his head up to make eye contact with Lance who balks at Keith’s watery, tired, and conflicted eyes. “I don’t understand. Why are you guys going to all this trouble for me?”

Hunk wraps his arms around Keith in a hug. “You’re our friend and part of our team. We have each other’s backs. I meant that in the figurative sense, not the literal one. Though I have your back right now. But I meant we—”

“What Hunk here is trying to say is that we care about you.” Lance hardens his stare, trying to get his message across. “So there is no reason for you to feel ashamed about getting nightmares. Everyone has nightmares.” Lance momentarily forgets himself, speaking his thoughts aloud as he struggles to understand why Keith pushed himself too hard. “Or is there more to it? Was Shiro right? Was your nightmare about this Elliot person?” Hunk feels Keith’s response as the muscles under his hands clench but Lance sees it in the purple eyes that dart away from him.

“We’ll talk about that later. For now, let’s get you clean. Do you feel comfortable with me cleaning you? Would you prefer Hunk? Or we can hold onto you if you think you can clean yourself without injuring yourself further.”

The barrage of questions overwhelms Keith who preferred nodding his head in response to Lance’s questions but now has to verbally state his opinion. “I-it’s fine. You can, you know. If you want.”

Lance can’t help the smile that stretches his lips at Keith’s shyness. It is adorable. Lance has to remind himself as he rubs his soapy hands along Keith’s muscled thighs that Keith is his teammate who is only putting up with this bizarre situation because he is too sore and weary to clean himself.

“Hunk, can you turn him around so I can wash his back?” Keith frowns. He isn’t paralyzed, he is capable of turning his body a little so he does. Hunk lifts his hands off his shoulders to allow him to turn, only for Keith to collapse into his chest with an ‘oomph’.

“Don’t push yourself. Hunk and I will take care of you, okay? Trust us.”

Keith lifts his head to face Lance and flutters his eyelashes to get the water droplets off of them. Lance nearly keels over from the action but maintains eye contact, letting Keith see the honesty in his eyes. After finding what he was looking for, Keith flushes and drops his gaze, resting his head against Hunk’s chest as Lance washes his back.

“All done.” Lance steps out of the shower first and turns back to help but Hunk is just fine, holding Keith up by his waist while the red paladin’s arm is looped around his neck.

Keith’s face scrunches up from the soreness that hits him when he is placed on his bed and attempts to scoot upwards to sit against the wall, his muscles protesting the action.

“I’m going to grab some dry clothes. Be right back.” Lance dashes out of the room in his wet boxers.

“Can I go through your closet to get you clothes?” Hunk points his thumb over his shoulder, indicating Keith’s closet. Keith gives permission and Hunk opens the door, rustling through fabric and withdrawing a pair of boxers and black sweatpants he remembers Keith purchasing on a planet they stopped at a few weeks ago. He hands them to Keith and turns back around to allow him privacy but also to find a shirt. Keith organizes his clothes in a strange order. Hunk likes to put his underwear in the top drawer, followed by shirts and then pants. But Keith seems to arrange his clothes by their placement on the body. His red jacket and long sleeved shirts are in the top drawer followed by short sleeve shirts, underwear, and then pants. Hunk looks through the long tops and is happy to find the maroon sweater Lance knitted Keith for his birthday. Hunk smiles, thinking of Lance’s reaction upon seeing Keith wearing the sweater he knit him, and pulls it from the drawer.

Less than ten seconds after Keith has finished dressing, Lance bursts through the door wearing a washed-out-blue pullover hoodie and grey sweatpants, holding a stack of folded clothes.

“Hunk, we need to have a talk about how many fuzzy socks you’re hoarding in your closet because I definitely wan—” As soon as Lance spots Keith snuggled in the slightly too big sweater, sleeves covering his hands, Lance’s grasp on the stack of clothes loosens and he moves erratically to catch them before they hit the floor.

Keith stares at him quizzically and Lance turns his blushing face away, focusing on handing Hunk his clothes without embarrassing himself further. Upon noticing Hunk’s wide grin, Lance shoots him the middle finger.

Hunk grins wider before slipping into the bathroom to change. In his absence, Lance shuffles from foot to foot before steeling his resolve and plopping himself on the bed next to Keith.

“Hey!” Keith protests as the bed bounces. Lance ignores him and crawls up so his back is against the wall and they are sitting side by side, thigh touching thigh and arm touching arm.

“Hey yourself.” Lance gives Keith his practiced smolder and watches Keith’s irritation dissolve into an expression both confused and shy. Shy on Keith is a good look, Lance decides.

The bathroom door opens and Hunk steps out, wearing the burnt orange shirt Lance picked out and his favorite drawstring pajama pants with the images of dachshunds in hot dog buns printed on them.

“I’m going to make you something to eat. Is there anything in particular you want?”

Keith clears his throat. “Whatever you make is good.”

Hunk smiles. “Thanks. Rest easy and I’ll be back soon. Do you want anything Lance?”

Lance responds to Hunk but Keith doesn’t listen, too concerned about being alone with Lance again, who will surely grill him for answers.

To his credit, Lance waits all of two minutes after Hunk leaves before wriggling down the bed to sit cross-legged across from him, now face to face.

“So…”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Lance.”

Lance raises his hands in the air. “Alright. Hunk or I are here if you ever do, though. Just know that.” Keith nods and crosses his arms tighter across his chest, looking down and to the side away from Lance’s soft but penetrating gaze.

Lance tries to sound relaxing, but by lowering his voice to sound softer it also comes out deeper. “What can I do to make you feel good?”  
Keith’s head whips towards Lance who breaks out in laughter.

“Oh man, your face. Why do you look like that? All I said was…” Lance clamps his mouth shut and both boys turn their red faces away.

“Uh, my bad. I didn’t mean it like that, obviously. Let’s, just - yeah.” Lance huffs out a breath. “Can you please contribute to this conversation? I’m floundering on my own.”

“I don’t have anything to say.”

Lance frowns before perking up as an idea hits him. “Tell me a story.”

“No. Why would I?”

“Keeeeeith. Come on. It can be anything - a story about you or someone else or made up entirely. You could tell me the plot of your favorite movie, I don’t care.”

Before Keith can respond, the door whooshes open and Hunk enters with a plate in hand, what looks like steamed pork buns stacked on top, except these buns are lavender.

“I made some Vlarnakian meat buns. They taste slightly sweet, because I know you like sweet foods, but the meat will give you protein to rebuild the muscles you’ve worn down.”

“Thanks, Hunk.” Keith reaches for a bun and finishes it in three bites, immediately reaching for another. As usual Hunk’s cooking is delicious, and Keith finally pays attention to his body to realize he is starving from only eating a little food at dinner.

“You need to take better care of yourself, Keith,” Hunk gently admonishes, and Keith can see the genuine concern in his brown eyes. It makes him feel guilty for worrying his team, but also exasperated because he didn’t ask them to worry about him.

“You don’t need to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

“Are you sure about that? Because I’m pretty sure Hunk and I had to help you shower because you overworked your body and didn’t nourish it.”

“We’re not attacking you, Keith,” Hunk assures as he casts a warning glare at Lance, “but we wish you’d open up to someone. Whatever you’re dealing with, you don’t need to deal with it alone.”

Keith sighs and digs his palms into his eyes. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you. I had a nightmare. I went to train to forget about it.”

“Okay, that’s fine. But why did you push yourself so hard?” Lance asks at the same time that Hunk exclaims “Oh!” and darts into the bathroom, knocking things around and then returning with a first aid kit.

“We should rewrap your bandages,” Hunk explains. They sit quietly as Hunk carefully unwraps the dirty bandages from around Keith’s hands and reapplies the alien version of Neosporin before placing new bandages around Keith’s damaged knuckles.

“I don’t want to be too weak to protect the people I care about ever again.” Lance lifts his gaze from Keith’s newly wrapped hands to his face but Keith is avoiding eye contact. Lance has a million questions but he doesn’t want to force Keith to open up, not that he even could force Keith to do anything he didn’t want to do.

Lance and Hunk wait in case Keith isn’t done speaking but minutes pass in silence. Lance rises from the bed.

“We’ll let you sleep now.”

“Take it easy,” Hunk adds as they walk to the door.

“Wait!” The two paladins turn around to see Keith’s outstretched hand and panicked face before Keith clutches his hand to his chest as if it betrayed him by reaching out. Keith swallows. He opens his mouth but says nothing, struggling to find the words.

“You really need to work on your verbal communication skills,” Lance half-jokingly admonishes as he crosses the room again and climbs onto the bed, untucking the sheets and lifting them over Keith and himself.

“You coming, Hunk?”

Hunk smiles warmly at the two, watching as Lance wraps himself around Keith whose eyes widen with surprise then shift into watery warmth. He casts this warm look upon Hunk who melts. Hunk approaches the bed and settles under the sheets, slinging his arm across Keith who tucks his head under Hunk’s chin. Lance begins to card his fingers through Keith’s hair and receives a contented sigh in response.

“Thank you,” Keith whispers as he drifts off into a dreamless sleep.

“Anytime.” Hunk assures.

“Seriously, anytime.” Lance snuggles closer.

When the morning arrives, Keith blinks his eyes open to see Hunk snoring lightly in front of him and notice Lance’s hand intertwined with his, pressed against his chest. He tries to shift slightly but finds it hard to move, crowded between the two paladins. He finds that it doesn’t bother him. Not one bit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some unanswered questions that I couldn’t delve into in this fic so if you’re curious, I’ve answered them here. If there is anything else you want to know or I forgot to explain, just message me and I’ll add it.
> 
> 1\. Jack and Elliot are two other orphans that Keith lived with for a time in a homemade shack under a bridge because they didn’t like the foster care system. None of them are related but they were like a family. At the time they were together, Jack was 14, Keith was 11, and Elliot was 9.  
> 2\. Elliot was getting beat up because he stole Lucky Charms from the supermarket that one of the teenager’s parents owned.  
> 3\. At the hospital, Elliot was fine but needed to stay for a few days because he had trouble swallowing and had headaches from being choked. Shiro’s mom invited Keith to stay at her home and she would drive him back to the hospital every day to keep Elliot company.  
> 4\. Keith bonded with Shiro and was adopted by his family.  
> 5\. After the first night spent at the hospital, Keith went to tell Jack what happened and they both sat by Elliot’s side every day until he was released from the hospital.  
> 6\. When Elliot was released from the hospital, a nurse who was taking care of him decided to adopt him and her sister adopted Jack.
> 
> I know all of them getting adopted is such an unrealistic gushy ending but those boys need love and a home.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m thinking about adding (already started writing) more chapters to this but I don’t know when I’ll get to finishing them. I just wanted to post this as I count down to season 2.
> 
> Come talk to me on tumblr! I need voltron friends! My username is humanities-angstiest


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